Act One: Setting the Table
The transition from the dream like state to full awareness was immediate, his eyes burst opened and took in the new environment. There was a momentary sensory overload before instinctual adjustments were made to bring everything into perspective and analyze the situation. There was an urge to spring from the prone state and address whatever had removed him, from the once thought, safe confines to the unknown location in which he now resided. He restrained himself, fighting back the urge with reason tempered by the years of experience that had so unkindly taught him the lessons of being impetuous.
A slow deep breath was taken, filling his nostrils with the myriad of components prevalently found in alchemical concoctions. His body remained completely motionless as his eyes darted about, committing everything to memory. The white on white orbs paused only when they connected with a figure, a young adult male donned in exquisitely crafted garments, emblazoned with the markings of House Kyneblut, a well renowned family of merchants whose manner of procurement was not the only questionable trait they possessed.
"This is it, all the gold… the time. And you present me with a man, one man?" The disappointment was fueled with irritation and easily evident by any ear. The young man leaned daringly closer, hovering over the prone body that lied statuesque on the table in the center of the chamber.
A voice emerged from the shadowed distance. "One man…." The accent was foreign but not from a distant land but instead from a distant time. The voice was laden with a confidence, a scholarly intonation, as if the voice had spent countless years addressing multitudes of people.
The young man aimed his head toward the unseen occupant in the room. "With the amount of coin I have tossed your way I would have expected an army of men." He shook his head disgustingly. "By the Nine..." He cursed. "One man… It could have at least been some legendary sell sword, where the mere mention of his name would bring the most stalwart to piss themselves."
"With that there is no doubt in why you have sought my services Master Kyneblut. I assure you that the anonymity of your enemy is a far better weapon than any sword or spell they could possibly wield; and understand that a journey begins with a single footstep; all that follow are merely consequences" The distinguished voice was subtle yet laced with the venomous undertones of sarcasm.
Kyneblut had all but ignored the preaching of his overly educated hireling. "Well tell me, who is this man that will serve my needs and escort me to the head of the table as you have so confidently promised?" He asked, turning his head back toward the prone one. Their eyes locked, the expression worn on the young nobles face resembling that of a child with a new toy; which was quite the opposite of the other, not a blinking of an eye on an emotionless, corpse like, face.
The figure emerged from the recesses of the room and into the well-lit center, stopping to stand next to Lord Kyneblut. His appearance belied his voice; he seemed much younger than presumed, likening the young Lord Kyneblut in both age and stature. He was adorned in a fashionable layering of robes of the deepest of blues and edged in shimmering strands of gold and silver. The robes, despite their elegance, where not what the eyes were drawn to, however, around his neck was a single thick chain of platinum which hung to the middle of his chest Upon the chain was a fist sized medallion of platinum and set within the center of that medallion was a small dark purple stone, that if not for its faint pulsating glow would be barely discernable. "He no longer has a name; I refer to him as Seven." He paused long enough to allow Lord Kyneblut to questionably respond, in which he surprisingly didn't. "Seven has no name, no family, no home… no past. He recalls only what has been taught to him from the most talented Masters of his art. He acts on what he is told and reacts to only which threatens or denies him to fulfill his task. He is the culmination of seven years of intensive research, training and experimentation. He is the grandest of all my works and from what will become my legacy."
"Your legacy…? I will remind you that this creation of yours is now mine and that by my word, no one in all of Tamriel will know of what you have done here. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain and now you must fulfill yours!"
There was an eerie calmness on the robbed figures face as the young Lord Kyneblut abruptly spun to face him. A devious smirk slowly crept upon his thin lips. "Our bargain… do you recall our bargain Lord Kyneblut?" Slowly his head turned back to the location of the room he so recently emerged from.
"Of course I do, and I am honored that you respected your end as proposed all while remaining true to your dealings with an ambitious yet treasonous child." An unknown figure now became the focal participant of the conversation as all eyes turned that way. "My son, if your loyalty to your family was as strong as your desire to rule over it than you would have easily been my next. You wanted Tempest Drakorin to help you to the head of the table, well he has more than fulfilled his end of the deal… he has brought the head of the table to you." An elderly man stepped from the shadows and revealed himself. He was older, taller and a much thinner than his progeny and the years had not been kind to him in many ways, however, what it had taken it had replaced with wisdom and guile. His right arm extended and held within the knot knuckled grip was a ceremonial blade, whose design and aesthetics out weighted the true nature behind the weapon. "I have ruled over this family for three generations, if you believe yourself to be the next head of the table then take this… and if you can bring yourself to end my reign, then you have my blessing."
The slack jaw that had dropped in disbelief was forced into a tight lipped grin. "You… you think that by lying to my father, twisting our agreement and making him believe that my intentions were to claim the head of the table for myself would work." Young Lord Kyneblut snipped at the Tempest. "Father, I have served you and our table faithfully and without question. I have spilt the blood of our enemies with my bare hands and placed our house before my own life. I have sacrificed everything I have and own to help establish our family, all to see us at our rightful place." He pled, returning the focus upon his father.
The elder shook his head, the long greying locks of his beard mocking the gesture as he spoke. "It was not the Tempest that betrayed you boy. I had suspected your deceit prior to you ever contacting him. In all truth it was by my subtle persuasion and guidance that you even found the Tempest. Do you honestly believe that huge amounts of my holdings would go undiscovered, that for seven years I'd not have even the slightest inquiry as to where it went? Neigh my boy, the Tempest was my test and you gave into all the temptations he had to offer. I am proud of you for showing such determination and resolve to try and see your visions to fruition… I am ashamed that my own blood lacked the knowledge, resources and cunning to ensure that vision became a reality." He looked down to the dagger, still outstretched in his frail hand. "Without this blade, you will never serve as head and while I still breathe you will never be welcomed into our family or reap the rewards of its entitlements. Do what you think you must."
The Tempest nodded solemnly to each and stepped back, leaving an unobstructed path between the two nobles. His eyes fell to the floor and he slowly reached up with his left hand and clutched at the medallion and with that whispered up a prayer.
The younger noble now shook furiously. The words of his father burning deeply and sparking an anger that should never be felt between father and son. He grit his teeth and took in a deep breath. He had mustered what he felt he needed, and justified his intentions for what he believed was for the better of House Kyneblut. His eyes narrowed as they fixated on his prey and what they would behold was unthinkable.
The dagger fell to the floor with the distinct resonance of steel on stone. The eyes of the elder Kyneblut widening allowing the last glint of life to leave. The sharp tip of a bloodied blade protruded from the front of his neck and remained there until the final gasp of air was taken. The elder slumped to the floor, now an empty shell of the man he had been. What was now unveiled as the corpse fell from view was even more horrific. It was the lovely visage of Lady Ophelia Kyneblut, the youngest of the head of the tables' brides.
"Goodbye my dear son…"
The melodic whisper was heard before the loud snap reverberated through the room as the body of the young noble joined his father in the eternal darkness. Standing behind the now crumpled mass of flesh whose head now hung aimlessly from its shoulders was Seven.
The Tempest smiled, looking at the beautiful raven haired assassin as she wiped the blade clean with a silken handkerchief. "Our deal is done now Lady Ophelia, I will be awaiting your payment as soon as you can make the arrangements." He glanced to Seven and nodded, releasing the medallion as he turned toward the door.
Ophelia interrupted the exit with a clearing of her throat. "And what am I to do with them?" She added, pointing at the bodies with the now cleaned tip of her blade.
"Let them continue to serve the family at your table… isn't that what the Kyneblut's do? He replied, hinting that he knew of the family's most hidden secret. "I must admit, I had figured that the decadent yet disturbing lifestyle of the Kyneblut would have all but consumed you years ago, you've done well to avoid falling prey to their lavishly gluttonous ways." The statement was blatantly filled with innuendo which placed a childish grin on the Tempest face as he spun on heel once again to face her.
"I am Kyneblut only by name… I have none of that families monstrous blood running threw my veins! How dare you insinuate such a thing… had I not the strength to restrain myself you would be sharing the same fate as my late husband." Her anger had over whelmed her at first but her tone lowered as she spoke until the last words where a whispered growl.
Her threats served no purpose but to sooth he own need. The Tempest raised a single brow acknowledging her words with disregard. "For years now you have sat at the Kyneblut table, if you are to have me believe that you never broke bread with them then you terribly underestimate everything I do know about you." Drakorin chided. "When you lay with monsters, you become a monster."
"Perhaps Drakorin, perhaps…" He was right, she had become a monster and the events that had just transpired was proof. She despised what she had become. She turned her gaze to Seven lingering briefly before returning to the Tempest "But tell me, is it worse to be a monster… or one who creates them?"
He chuckled, deciding to leave it at that. "I look forward to our next encounter Lady Kyneblut."
"Yes, I will begin to make the arrangements as I promised. When we are finished we should celebrate, mayhap I should have you for dinner at Kyneblut Keep?"
The Tempest could not suppress the chuckle, he almost hated to see such a quick witted, self confident and feisty individual suffer the fate that awaited her. "Come Seven, Lady Kyneblut has much to do and we should not keep her." With that the two men exited the confines of the Alchemist quarters of Kyneblut Keep, once inside the hallway and out of view, he discreetly opened a portal and the two vanished into the magical void.